


Playing the Wrong Song

by trulywicked



Series: TW's Great Big Storybook [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Singing Stiles, because sterek, derek's thoughts, half assed love declarations, pianist Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 23:47:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trulywicked/pseuds/trulywicked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As well as he knew Stiles' hands and his voice, he'd never known they could do this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing the Wrong Song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Acherona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acherona/gifts).



Derek knew Stiles' voice. He knew the tones and pitches of it colored by a thousand emotions. He knew the high, emphatic sound of exasperation, the breathlessness of fear, the gentle croon of comfort, the loud shout of anger, and the strangled, heartbreaking whisper of love, any love. He knew Stiles' voice better than his own, better than he'd known his mother's or Laura's, but still he hadn't known Stiles' voice could do this.  
  
He hadn't known the voice he dreamed about at times could caress words like this. That it could turn something Derek thought of as overrated into a thing of such auditory beauty it made him want to cry.  
  
He knew Stiles' hands too. The shape of them, the strength hidden in long fingers and narrow palms. He knew how they jittered and flew throught he air as Stiles made a point, how the fingers could twist strings into complex netting and shapes, how those fingers turned pages of a book and grazed over the words as though they could absorb the knowledge that way, knew how competent those hands were when treating injuries and holding someone to life.  
  
He hadn't known those long fingers held another talent in them. Though he'd often made the obvious comparison he hadn't _known_ it was reality.  
  
He stood transfixed in the doorway of the room in the Stilinski home that almost always had a closed door. Stiles had told him once or twice that it had been his mother's retreat but never before had Derek seen the inside of it nor had he ever asked to. He understood keeping some memories alive in physical spaces. It smelled like Stiles but deeper, as though it had soaked into the very walls, was a vanilla and rose scent that Derek knew had to be Stiles' mother's. It was strong enough that Derek knew Stiles could still smell it with his human nose and he realized this was the place Stiles went to ease the aches of his soul and go back in time.  
  
The sound filled the room with sadness and resignation as Stiles' fingers picked out the tune and his voice gave bleeding life to Bonnie Raitt. Stiles' eyes were closed and Derek knew he was in his own mental world proclaiming that he couldn't make someone love him. A twist of Derek's heart forced him into movement because he remembered last night, hovering on the edge of sleep and recovery from a severe injury, when he heard Stiles whisper to him, obviously not expecting him to hear or remember. He remembered that strangled whisper perfectly well. It was why he was here today.  
  
He moved up behind Stiles and stretched his arms around him, laying his hands over the long ones on the piano keys, boxing Stiles in when he jolted, before he relaxed upon recognizing who was there.  
  
"Oh hey! I didn't know you were coming ov-"  
  
"Stiles," it was a little rough on exit but then Derek wasn't exactly used to making declarations of affection, "You shouldn't make assumptions."  
  
"...what?"  
  
And there was the subvocal tremble of uncertainty. It gave Derek the right direction, the confidence to keep going, "I heard you last night and you're singing the wrong song," his lips brushed Stiles' ear, "Ever heard Let's Give Them Something To Talk About?"  
  
Stiles' heartbeat thundered in his ears and Derek caught him as he spun around awkwardly on the piano bench.  
  
"You...really?" Amber eyes were wide and cautiously hopeful.  
  
Having used up his quota of words Derek decided to just lean down and answer with his mouth in a different way, pressing it to Stiles' lips in a slow, coaxing kiss.  
  
From the way long clever fingers suddenly speared through his hair and the sinful mouth under his opened, he'd say Stiles got the message.


End file.
